oak tree – derrickjknight

The Moment

On our way to a shop at Lidl this morning, Jackie pulled into a farmer’s drive and leapt out of the car with her camera.

Whenever we pass this weather-ravaged oak tree we make a mental note to photograph the effect of the sometimes savage coastal winds that have carved one side of the tree into a monumental headstone. With the cluster of crows taking a breather today – they are often found perching on markers of final resting places – this was the moment we had been waiting for. Jackie’s first picture also shows how a different kind of climate has prematurely altered the pigment of the fields around.

This afternoon I published https://derrickjknight.com/2022/08/08/the-great-gatsby/

This evening we dined on more of the chicken in Nando’s sauce; Jackie’s savoury rice; and tender green beans, with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden, I drank more of the Côtes-du-Rhône, and Flo and Dillon drank Ribena. (No, WP, how many times must I tell you this is not Ribera?)

Meerut Road

On another mild, sunny, morning we visited Mum in Woodpeckers Colten Care Home.

Firstly, Jackie parked in Butts Lawn along which I wandered with a camera.

At one end the ford water left its mark on the measuring gauge.

I walked alongside the rippling, fast-flowing stream watching swaying underwater weeds, scum-forming bubbles, and leaves whizzing by putting me in mind of Hans Andersen’s “Little Tin Soldier” in his paper boat speeding along the gutter. Sunbeams revealed autumn leaves and pebbles carpeting the bed, and a red-brick house was reflected in a roadside puddle.

At the other end stands a Telephone Box Book Exchange decorated with children’s drawings and a notice of Lockdown Precautions advising that the library contents will not have been sanitised.

The stream continues under the road bridge beside a splendid oak. The wooden railings are reflected in the crystal clear water.

Attempting to claim the last resilient leaf clinging to a maple on Meerut Road the gentle breeze tugged and twisted in vain.

‘Morant Hall, also known as New Forest Hall, once stood on the Lyndhurst Road approximately opposite Greenways Road, Brockenhurst.

Soon after the establishment of the Lady Hardinge Hospital for Wounded Indian Soldiers in c.1914 at what is now Tile Barn the facilities quickly became overcrowded. The hospital had tented and galvanized roofed buildings as patient accommodation and had commandeered Balmer Lawn and Forest Park Hotels.

Morant Hall was set up to take some of these patients in an attempt to relieve some of the overcrowding treating the Indian troops of the Meerut and Lahore Divisions, who fought on the Western Front, and were patients at the Lady Hardinge Hospital. The hall became known as the Meerut Indian General Hospital and was managed by a committee of local citizens and could provide accommodation for up to 120. …..Meerut Road in Brockenhurst [is named] in their memory.’ (Gareth Owen in https://nfknowledge.org/contributions/morant-hall-meerut-indian-general-hospital-morant-war-hospital/#map=10/-1.57/50.82/0/24:0:0.6|39:1:1|40:1:1 )

Despite the current Covid-inspired lockdown Colten Care continue to provide visiting facilities. We can see my mother through a glass screen for half an hour once a fortnight.

Mum was wheeled in and provided with a rug which she didn’t need to use. Jackie, who sits socially distanced beside me, and the garden behind our open door are reflected in the screen. Mother was on good, talkative, form.

In Sway Road, not far from Woodpeckers, a family of donkeys enjoyed scratching and tearing at the shrubbery. One left its post in order to discover whether I bore any treats.

This evening we dined on a rack of pork ribs in barbecue sauce, salt and pepper prawns, and Jackie’s savoury egg rice, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Cotes du Rhone Villages.

Autumn Reflections

Jackie and I each photographed a few flowers

blooming yesterday morning. Here are the Assistant Photographer’s contributions. The first three are of Mrs Popple fuchsias and a giant which has lost its label; next is a white solanum with the bright blue Ali Baba planter in the background; the hanging baskets following contain petunias and bacopas; next, not actually a flower, are bejewelled weeping birch catkins; and finally we have raindrops on black eyed Susans.

Mine were chrysanthemums of varying hues, still hot lips, and, believe it or not, yellow antirrhinums.

Before lunch today we took a short drive into the forest, via

Lower Sandy Down which offered

a number of autumn scenes.

Church Lane, running up and down from Boldre to Pilley, came next.

Jackie parked on a verge while I stood on the road bridge contemplating

the now fast-flowing stream and its reflections.

This tangle of oak branches and the weeping willow tresses were also visible from my vantage point.

At Pilley we encountered a number of ponies beside the lake,

and noticed that Foxglove and Twinkle now have chickens for company.

The cyclist who squeezed past these donkeys on the road must have been intrigued at the number of times we passed him as we wandered around in circles at this point.

Back at home Nick continued working proficiently yet at a rate of knots. Moving from room to room as he put curtains back up and another coat of paint on the door in the sitting room; he further prepared the kitchen and added paint to walls and ceiling. One of the horrors he had to deal with was the hole in the lath and plaster wall into which had been driven by our predecessors a bracket on which swung a large fridge that blocked the doorway during their residence.

Unfortunately our craftsman will have to leave the work in the kitchen until after 19th January which is the earliest that Barry Chislett-Bruce can repair our leak. Reflecting their reliability and the quality of their work, both these men, thorough experts in their fields, are very busy, so we are happy to wait.

This evening we dined on crisp oven fish and chips; green peas; piquant pickled onions and gherkins, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Prestige de Calvet Cotes du Rhone Villages 2019.

He Flies Like A Bird

Today Nick was mostly painting woodwork.

This afternoon we shopped at Tesco and at Milford on Sea Pharmacy. There were queues at neither outlet.

From Tesco we drove to Milford on Sea via Angel Lane alongside which Jackie parked and I walked a while, photographing

woodland, a mossy oak, a mushroom, and autumn leaves floating on ditch water.

Along the coast road the air was so hazy as to obscure the cliffs of the Isle of Wight and a cruise ship quarantined outside Southampton.

The sea was quite calm, and more than one couple found the weather warm enough to enjoy ice creams from the nearby kiosk.

We moved on to Keyhaven and, from Saltgrass Lane, watched

walkers on the spit,

and were entertained by the aerial gymnastics of an impressive kite surfer.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome shepherds pie served with al dente carrots, cauliflower, and green beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Faugeres.

In The Rough

This morning we received an e-mail from our good blogging friend Lavinia Ross attaching a photograph of the cedar tree (Calocedrus decurrens) she has planted in remembrance of my son Michael. We are very touched by this.

Jackie nipped out to photograph the evidence of last night’s sub-zero temperature.

We have light frost on various leaves;

and thin ice on the Frond pond – well, cistern actually.

Plants like primulas

and wallflower Sugar Rush Purple Bicolour seem unscathed.

After lunch Jackie turned her lens on the front garden foragers. in the process discovering

a dunnock and

a second robin happily coexisting with Ron. Robins are notoriously territorial, the males fighting to the death to repel invaders. Two companionable examples must therefore be one male and one female. When Ron first came on the scene we did speculate that the bird could in fact be a Ronette. We now have a real identification problem.

Is this Ron or Ronette waiting for the sparrows to finish feeding;

and which is sharing pickings with the pigeon?

Later this afternoon we took a drive into the forest.

The sun was quite low over the Burley Golf Course where one couple were nicely silhouetted;

another apparently caught in the rough;

and ponies,

one of which lethargically turned to observe me, dozing or grazing.

On the opposite side of Burley Road trees, like Narcissus, admired themselves on the surface of a deepening pool.

Before we left home I had remembered that Elizabeth had given me a long walker’s stick for my birthday last year. This is intended to aid balance. I therefore decided to keep it in the car. I was tempted to leave the road at Bisterne Close and walk into the woods. As I set off Jackie reminded me of the stick. Well, at least I had got it into the car without prompting.

It was a great help in traversing the undulating forest floor with its soggy, shoe sucking, areas, yet lacking yesterday’s booby traps.

Moss-covered raised roots were easier to negotiate than yesterday’s bare snaking ones.

Winter’s long shadows stretched over the terrain

much of which was reasonably dry underfoot.

There were, of course, more reflective pools.

One long-limbed mighty oak needed only a wildcat steed to present a passing semblance of the Hindu goddess Durga.

Somehow she has retained her mighty arms whilst another lost one of hers some time ago.

Back in the car and further down the road, even at 3.30 p.m. ice shone on the waterlogged verge.

This evening we dined at The Smugglers Inn at Milford on Sea where Jackie enjoyed spinach and ricotta cannelloni followed by sticky toffee pudding and ice cream. I would have enjoyed my otherwise good sirloin steak, chips, onion rings, and fresh salad more had my steak knife been thrown away. My great and butter pudding and custard dessert was excellent. The service was friendly, speedy, and efficient. Mrs Knight drank Hop House Lager while I drank Doom Bar.

Bad Hair Day

This afternoon Jackie drove me to Eyeworth Pond and back to watch the birds.

Golden gorse glowed in the sunshine on Hinchelsea Moor and many others.

The deciduous trees, like this oak, are all filling with foliage.

Walkers along the Rhinefield Ornamental Drive

gave scale to the giant redwoods.

Mandarin ducks are not native to UK, but we now have a feral population which originates from escapees from collections. These two males brightened an otherwise dull Eyeworth Pond.

Birders tend to place nuts and other food on the posts of the gate to the woodland footpath. A moss-covered log has recently been added. The blue tits, a coal tit, a nuthatch, chaffinches and sparrows were extremely busy today swooping to pick up and dart off with nutriment for the babies in their nearby nests.

A pair of sparrows left a tardy chaffinch on the ground beneath the post upon which they filled their beaks, debating who should set off first. Although not up to his flying bird sequence the last of these pictures is a nod to To otlepedal.

Alongside Cadnam Lane a couple of pigs have joined

the grazing ponies and recumbent cattle now fertilising the greens alongside Cadnam Lane

One pony demonstrated its ungainly rise from the ground;

a small Shetland was definitely having a bad hair day.

This evening we dined on succulent chicken Kiev; Lyonnaise potatoes with lashings of onions; red cabbage cooked with butter and red wine; and crunchy carrots and cauliflower. Jackie finished the Sauvignion Blanc, while I drank the last of the Carménere.

He Doffed His Cap

This cloudless, sunny, day remained quite cool (13c tops). We took a drive into the forest this afternoon.

Holmesley Passage benefited from the sunlight streaming through the trees. The two vehicles in these pictures demonstrate how narrow is this lane.

Each of the above motors is approaching one of the two fords that cross the passage.

The woodland scenes that border the lane include a number of fallen tress making their contribution to the local ecology.

As we reached the lowest point of this passage across the moors, a pair of hopeful ponies thudded across the turf.

The splendid oak tree on the descent into Burley towards the Queen’s Head is coming into leaf

Today, hungry donkeys seemed to outnumber the ponies at North Gorley, where a 2017 finisher took his eager dog for a run.

While photographing horses in the landscape rising to Gorley Common, I noticed

a horse and trap approaching. After I had taken the last shot the friendly driver doffed his cap.

This stream with its reflections was one of many we passed.

Jackie’s meals are all very good. Occasionally, as with tonight’s delicious chicken jalfrezi, she excels herself and produces something that would make any self-respecting chef from the Indian sub-continent sit up and take notice. Her savoury rice was equally praiseworthy and was accompanied by vegetable samosas and a paratha. The Culinary Queen drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc and I drank more of the Carménere.

Almost Blown Away

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James, of Peacock Computers, visited to examine the iMac, and took it away to restore it to working order. In anticipation of the Apple’s removal, I had scanned a set of photographic prints from May 1993 onto the Windows laptop. We had also thought the weather would be bad this afternoon and I would be able to use these to illustrate today’s post. In the event, the sun shone and the winds were high enough, at more than 50 m.p.h. to suggest a trip into the forest. The 1993 set will appear tomorrow.

A short distance outside East End cattle grazed on a hillside that was topped by an oak tree sporting a car tyre.

The little falabella pony which

sometimes joins its cousins outside St Leonard’s Grange,

spent its time crossing from one side of the road to the other.

Another just stayed in the road.

When we reached this point, one of the ruins of the granary was nicely silhouetted

against the lowering sun, bestowing a sepia tone.

We continued along the road, intending to return for sunset. Pheasants chased each other across the lanes and the autumnal fields.

On our return golden streaks stretched along the sky.

We took a diversion down Tanners Lane on our journey home. Those streaks had deepened over the Isle of Wight.

The winds pressed so strongly against the car door that it felt as if it was close to a wall. Just one other vehicle was parked in front of us. Perhaps it belonged to the windsurfer

who skimmed over the choppiest waves we have ever seen there,

constantly changing

direction, and almost blown away.

This evening we dined on Jackie;s gorgeously spicy chilli con carne, with her most savoury rice wearing an omelette jacket. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank Mendoza Parra Alta malbec 2016.

I Was Set Up

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GROUPS ACCESS GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.

Somewhat encouraged by the lack of adverse effects on my knackered knees after the long, flat, walk round Keyhaven and Lymington Nature Reserve, I decided to take the somewhat shorter, yet undulating, route through Honeylake Wood. At about halfway I ventured into the undergrowth, after which I turned back.

A pedestrian gate breaking a hedge serves as an entrance to the field leading to the wood.

The hedge was reflected in the muddy verge beside Christchurch Road.

A bent and aged oak on one edge of the field bowed beneath the prevailing wind,

which even around mid-day bit into me as I crossed to the wood.

On my way in the leafy path offered welcoming shelter,

while a sight of Downton’s cottages as I left it gave notice that home was near, if not in sight.

Often springy underfoot, the forest floor,

over which squirrels scampered,

was, especially near the stream, occasionally waterlogged.

The wind roared overhead. There was much evidence of broken trees,

and, although some autumn leaves had not yet reached the ground,

others glowed in the sunlight

which played among the trees.

The bridge had been so severely damaged as to deter anyone from leaning on the rickety rail; a sapling had been converted to an entrance arch.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s classic sausage casserole, creamy mashed potatoes, and crisp carrots, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts. I drank Basson Shiraz 2014. The others didn’t drink their Kronenbourg 1664 until afterwards so that didn’t count.

A minute particle of my casserole splashed up from my plate and onto my grandfather shirt. Jackie and Ian swooped on me to supplement the stains and Becky grabbed the camera. I was set up, I swear it.

A Good Arboreal Scratch

We enjoyed another bright and sunny day, albeit a little cooler. A light, short-lived frost had left strings of pearls around our early flowers including

hellebores I had overlooked yesterday,

and prunus pissardi.

This afternoon I watched recorded highlights of last Sunday’s drawn rugby match between Ireland and Wales. This is a very rare result these days, and you have to go back 42 years to the last evenly scored game between these two teams.

After this, Jackie drove us to Ferndene Farm Shop where we bought three bags of compost; then meandered around the forest as far as Godshill and back along Roger Penny Way.

The sun romped in and out of the clouds in the ever-changing skies spilling light and shade over the heathland where well-fattened ponies, with their magpie acolytes, chomped their way across the turf.

When these free-creatures of The New Forest fancied the grass would be greener on the other side, they wandered across the road, exercising their inalienable right to hold up the traffic.

The recent storms have brought down numbers of trees such as this oak, its trunk shattered, on the approach to Burley,

where another, more dead than alive, still stood,

and where one pony left its companions foraging whilst it had a good arboreal scratch.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy chicken curry; savoury rice; and vegetable samosas and pakoras; followed by Sicilian lemon tart and evap. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank Fortnum & Mason Saint-Emilio grand cru 2011, given to me by Luci and Wolf for Christmas.